September 13-20, 2010
I met some music men this week.
On Saturday, I was just minding my own business, filming some daily Ombu, and then this guy appears out of a bush. He smelled like peanuts and played pleasant music and was a nice acquaintance for a day in La Recoleta park.
These are not accordions. They are bandoneónes, a key element of tango music. To me, a tango tune begins- singing, violin, piano, whatnot- and I kind of dig it.
Then the bandoneónes start.
It's the breaths of the instruments. Every huff and sigh accelerates the emotion. Unfortunately for anyone hoping to experience this in the video above, you shan't. A) I got some really awkward parts of the song that didn't flow well in a short clip. B) The recording quality of my camera bombs the magic.
I spent Sunday in the San Telmo antique market where I ate empanadas and looked for keyholes.
The abundance of Jewish items in the antique stands fascinated me. Among the tarnished spoons, stopped clocks, and aged rosaries, you could almost always find an ancient Star of David or an old medal containing a passage from the Torah. This is due to a massive migration of European Jews before around the Holocaust. Why they chose Argentina, I am not sure. Regardless, the fusion of old Jewish and Catholic cultures in this South American city is brilliant and rich to behold.
The abundance of Jewish items in the antique stands fascinated me. Among the tarnished spoons, stopped clocks, and aged rosaries, you could almost always find an ancient Star of David or an old medal containing a passage from the Torah. This is due to a massive migration of European Jews before around the Holocaust. Why they chose Argentina, I am not sure. Regardless, the fusion of old Jewish and Catholic cultures in this South American city is brilliant and rich to behold.
These are not accordions. They are bandoneónes, a key element of tango music. To me, a tango tune begins- singing, violin, piano, whatnot- and I kind of dig it.
Then the bandoneónes start.
It's the breaths of the instruments. Every huff and sigh accelerates the emotion. Unfortunately for anyone hoping to experience this in the video above, you shan't. A) I got some really awkward parts of the song that didn't flow well in a short clip. B) The recording quality of my camera bombs the magic.
And here's my personal favorite music man from Sunday in San Telmo. I imagine he hasn't felt that creeped out for a long time. Really, I just didn't leave.
I marveled at his handlove for the treasure.
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